


Sadly Sighing

by Bandtrees



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aftertale, Alternate Universe - Errortale, Alternate Universe - MommaCQ, Alternate Universe - Underfresh, Basically, Character Death, Gen, Homelessness, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Fresh, although you don't really need to read blue strings or years later to understand what's happening, error fucks up real bad, forgetting cq is a person and not just someone's oc lmao, geno's dead and fresh now has emotions, ink/error if you squint, it's weird to write about the mommacq au, sibling rivalry taken to a dangerously high extent, thats all the backstory u really need to know 4 this, there should really be a fandoms page for aus specifically, this is kinda a sequel to years later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandtrees/pseuds/Bandtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First we were babies, we're birthing and dying<br/>And then we were children, we're playing and crying<br/>And then we're teenagers and smoking and fucking<br/>But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing</p><p>--</p><p>Somewhat sequel to Years Later, but reading it is not required to know what's going on.<br/>Proofread and edited by TheArtisticIntrovert!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hush

Fresh with their newfound emotions was both a blessing and a curse.

　

Error thought he'd be relieved to know his younger sibling _wasn't_ an apathetic freak, but now, they were arguably worse than before. Fresh had gone from nothing but curiosity and faked happiness to _actual_ joy and sadness and anger and _so much_ going on that absolutely nobody could keep track. They had all these emotions but had no idea how to handle them. They overreacted to nearly everything, were even louder and more annoying than before, and acted like a total toddler. It bothered Error to no end.

　

It was a little sad, knowing that this was what his one remaining sibling had become.

　

Error tried to understand them, he really did. He thought that maybe the two of them could set aside their sibling rivalry, since they were the only two of the Fontaine triplets left, but that didn't work out. At least, for him it didn't. Fresh tried to be his friend, but that didn't work out either. All that was really left for them was the ocassional family bonding road trip their mother made them go on, awkward family dinners, and quietly lazing around in the living room, not speaking or looking at the other.

　

"Brah, I'm hungry."

　

Well, then there were times like this.

　

Error looked up from his spot huddled into an armchair playing on his phone to see his younger sibling sprawled across the couch. They were wearing the same tacky pink glitter T-shirt (reading "FRIYAY") and comfy gray skirt they'd been wearing for the past couple of days. Fresh adjusted their trademark YOLO glasses, sitting up.

　

"Can ya, like, make dinner or somethin'?" They waved their arms for emphasis. "I'm hungrin's."

　

"Well," Error set his phone down next to him, unintentionally getting into his 'bossy older sibling' voice. He'd started doing that ever since Geno died. "Mom's out, so you can make something for yourself." Fresh was about to open their mouth to complain, but Error held up a hand to silence them.

　

"Or we can make something together." Error could see Fresh's face light up, and couldn't help but smile for once. He stood up, only to be practically tackled by Fresh.

　

"Yesyesyesyesyes!! That sounds like a lotta fun!" his younger sibling practically yelled, wrapping their arms around Error. Error laughed a bit, shoving the other off of him. "What are we gonna make?" Fresh was obviously very excited about this, and Error couldn't help but play along.

　

"What do you want?" Error glanced down at Fresh, who just shrugged in reply. Great answer.

　

The two made their way to the kitchen. Error started to go through the freezer's contents, eventually pulling out a frozen pizza. Something that Fresh hopefully wouldn't burn the house down making. Hopefully. Either way, he'd do most of the work. He closed the freezer, eyes caught by a drawing clipped onto the fridge. Oh, great...

　

He stopped and stared at the clipping. Not now, why now...? It was a crayon drawing made by Fresh, by the looks of it. The words 'Art Therapy 201X - Fresh Fontaine' at the bottom right corner made the context clear. The drawing in question appeared to be a drawing of Geno with messily drawn, plush pink angel wings. Ugh...

　

Fresh glanced over from their spot sat on the counter, frowning when they saw Error there. "Brah..." they sighed suddenly, approaching Error and tapping his shoulder. Error jumped in surprise, dropping the frozen pizza. He turned and looked at Fresh, their frown not looking pouty or bothersome for once, but instead cold and calculating.

　

"Those ghosts have been buried for however many years. Please, bro..." They sighed again. "Just let them be."

　

Error let out a choked sob, hands shaking. " I can't, I just... I just can't." His eyes began to glitch out, vision filled with hazy red static. He slumped to the ground, holding his head. He felt like he was hyperventilating, and he probably was. Fresh stood over him, shaking nervously. "...Bro, please let Geno be. Let him—let him rest in peace, okay? 'Specially in your mind..."

　

Their words sounded rehearsed and fake, probably quoting one of their many therapists. Error began to openly cry, vision now entirely error-ed out. Fresh continued. "Do you really want those old wounds to open up again?" Now Error _knew_ they were quoting one of their therapists. He let out a trembling breath that turned into a sob about midway through. "You can't let Geno's death rule your—"

　

"I'M NOT LETTING IT RULE MY LIFE!!!" Error screamed, suddenly shooting up and punching Fresh in the face. Fresh let out a terrified yelp, glasses slung off their face.

　

They looked up at Error with absolute fear, white pupils shimmering as their eyes welled up with tears. "He-hey... brah..."

　

"Don't you _'brah'_ me!" Error shouted, gripping the front of Fresh's shirt. "You're awful! You don't wanna help me, you just wanna help yourself!" Fresh nervously laughed.

　

"Hey, Error... can...can we get back to cooking...?" They forced a smile, but were visibly terrified. Error shoved Fresh into the counter, the younger letting out a yelp of pain. They landed directly onto their rear end, rubbing the back of their skull. "Owwhh..." Fresh groaned, stifling tears with a sniffle. "What was that for..."

　

They looked up to see Error standing over them, face twisted into an awful shape. His eyes were still blanked out, but the shaky smile on his face along with the clenched fists showed Fresh his obviously dark intentions. "You haven't changed at all, have you?" He hissed. "You're still an awful brat!" His voice rose to shouting again, as he grabbed Fresh by the collar.

　

"I just wanna h-help..." Fresh mumbled, tears now streaming down their face. "This happened forever ago, just let it go already... Even now, you're letting it rule your-"

　

"Shut UP! Shut up, shut up, shut up!!" Error yelled, and he didn't know what he did due to his vision being all glitched out, but he knew that he had summoned those blue strings of his, blindly flinging them at Fresh and then... Fresh had gone silent.

　

When Error's vision returned to normal, he couldn't help but scream at what he saw. There they were, blue strings embedded into Fresh's heart like a dagger. Their eyes were wide, staring unseeingly at their sibling. They were disturbingly still, and Error had a feeling why. Blood had begun to well around the strings stuck in their chest. The magic blue thread fell limply from the wound, and there was no doubt about it in Error's mind anymore.

　

His little sibling was dead.

　

Error let out another scream, letting go of the strings. What would his mom do? What would his friends do? He was truly alone now. He had no siblings truly left, and he had _killed_ one of them! Fresh was _dead!_ He had committed a crime, hadn't he? He was a bad person! Good people don't _murder_ their siblings!

　

So he did only thing he knew he _could_ do then.

　

He ran.


	2. Morning Hates The Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fresh was the life of the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> general tw for suicide at the start  
> nothing too indepth but it talks abt geno's death and fresh jokes about geno hanging himself so

_Fresh was the life of the party. They were always cracking jokes and trying to make the best of things. It was probably meaningless to them, but they always tried to make people smile. They didn't know many things about people, but they knew sadness wasn't good to see. So no matter what, they kept on trying to be positive._

_It wasn't exactly appropriate for their older brother's funeral._

_Error at first thought that maybe they didn't fully understand death, or suicide, or anything like that, but the little sociopath had more dark jokes in their arsenal than any kid that age had the right to. They were confused by Geno's death, but didn't seem really... **hurt.** They wanted their big brother back, sure, but also seemed to just shrug it off and deal with it. They didn't seem to care, and that apathetic nature of theirs drove away the few friends they had._

_Error knew they were an awful brat, but this..._

_"Hey! Hey, hey-hey. Brah." They put their arm around Ink (who was unfortunate enough to be standing closest to them)'s shoulder. "Don't get so **hung-up** over it, y'know? Your mood's really gonna **drop** if you keep these bad vibes up. Don't think Geno'd want to leave ya **hanging** like this," Fresh snorted. Ink yanked his arm away and walked off, a hurt expression on his face._

_This was a bit far._

_Error glared at Fresh, who looked confused by Ink leaving but didn't seem hurt by it. They never seemed hurt by anything unless it was actual physical pain. They were like a barely sentient animal, or at least that's how Error always saw them. Didn't care for others, didn't care for anything, barely cared for themselves. It really made Error sick._

_"Yeesh, what's Rainbow's problem?" Fresh snickered as they watched their family friend go, a sarcastic and crude laugh that didn't sound very right with their generally upbeat and childish voice. Error noticed their use of his nickname for Ink and internally cringed. Fresh saw Error there and went back into their big fake grin and did their odd skip of a walk towards him._

_"'Sup, brah? Enjoyin' the party?" They stood on their toes to poke Error's face, a gesture he certainly didn't approve of, smacking Fresh's hand away. He glared hard at them, crushing the empty white styrofoam cup he'd been nursing soda from since before the family arrived at the funeral home. Fresh took a step back, laughing nervously and holding their hands up in mock surrender._

  
  
_"Wow, 'kay, struck a nerve there, bro, didn't I?" They cocked their head with that stupid grin that Error really wanted to punch off their face right about now. "Chill. Like, sure, Geno killed 'imself, 'n' that's horrible 'n' stuff, but you can't get all mopey over it." They shrugged, clearly not understanding the concept of grief. "That's just gonna mess you up, brah."_

_"Do you know **why** he killed himself?" Error finally spoke and, if looks could kill, Fresh and all their past, present, and future family would have been struck down on the spot. Fresh stared and, for once in their life, looked like they didn't know what to say. They finally shrugged. "Uh... don't think I was ever told."_

 

**_"Hey, Error, could I use your strings for a bit?"_ **

**_Told him it was for an art project._ **

 

_"He felt like he was a burden, did you know that?" Error couldn't really tell due to their shades, but he had a feeling Fresh was avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, he thought he was **holding us back!** Doctor's visits cost a lot, y'know that, right?"_

_He **wanted** to make Fresh feel uncomfortable, **wanted** to make them feel like they were awful for joking about this, because they **were**. He gripped the front of their shirt, a neon rainbow thing with sprinkle designs that looked just as out of place at a funeral as its owner did. Error jerked his sibling's head so that they looked him in the eye, maybe a little too roughly as they whimpered and attempted to yank away._

**_"Geno! I got the-"_ **   
**_Error's sentence was lost as he saw his older brother was hanging from the ceiling fan. With Error's little blue strings._ **

 

_"Heard Mom talking about budget cuts, how she'd have to spend less time out and with us to pay for his doctor visits." Error continued, Fresh nervously squirming. It wasn't much use, considering Error was easily the strongest physically out of the three of them. "Offed himself to save us money."_

**_A financial black hole._ **

 

_With that, Error roughly shoved Fresh into the grass, earning a groan of pain from the younger as they landed directly onto their arm. They sat up, rubbing their arm with a whimper. Their glasses were crooked, Error able to see their pupils shimmering as if they were going to tear up._

  
_Some dark, sick part of Error was proud of himself._

_"You can think of that next time we go shopping."_

\---

　

Error ran, and didn't look back even if his life depended on it.

　

He bolted out the door, shoving past pedestrians and tripping numerous times over litter left on the sidewalk. He didn't stop for anything, not even when multiple people attempted to ask what the matter was. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going, but he wanted to be far, far away from everything and everyone.

　

He had just murdered his sibling. That's something people get _executed_ for! What if someone found out?! He would die. He'd get locked up in jail and get his head chopped off with an ax because _good people_ don't murder their siblings. Error didn't wanna die. Not like that, not because of this.

　

His mother didn't deserve to lose two children in one night. Hell, she didn't deserve to lose _Geno_ in the first place. Geno was the sane one. He was normal and wise (at least to Fresh and Error) and kind and a good student. Fresh and Error, they weren't. They were _monsters._ Monsters, but they were all their mother had anymore. And now they were gone.

　

So Error kept on running, still unsure of where he was headed but fine with it as long as it was away from here. He eventually stopped when he felt his legs start to ache. He leaned against a lamppost, trying to catch his breath. Okay, so now what? He wasn't sure where he was, but hoped to travel further once he gave his legs a rest. The Fontaines never had the best of physical health, and Error wasn't really an exception.

　

Geno was sickly, Fresh was weak, and Error was fucked up. Quite the team they made.

　

Error looked around him. The sun had just went down, leaving the sky now dark. There were people bustling about, finishing whatever days out they had planned and heading home. None of them paid him much mind, which was generally a good thing. He waited until the small amount of attention that was on him faded before speedily walking off and into an alleyway.

　

An alley wasn't the best place to be at 8:30 at night, but then again Error had basically hit rock bottom. He didn't have much else to live for anyway, sibling murderers probably _deserved_ to get mugged. Error jolted when he thought he heard a noise, but settled when he realized that he was alone and whatever it was was likely gone now.

　

He glanced around himself. Wide alleyway, or at least wide compared to alleyways he had seen before. He didn't have much for reference, so he could let himself think this was luxurious compared to what he could have gotten. There was a fairly large dumpster with trash scattered across the front, a large window a little above it. Error cautiously approached the dumpster as if something was going to jump out any second, brushed aside some trash with his foot and sat down.

　

It was uncomfortable, of course. A concrete floor leaning against a hard metal dumpster as opposed to his big comfy bed in the attic was going to take lots of getting used to. In fact, this whole ordeal would. He wouldn't wake up to his mom calling him downstairs or Fresh playing their dumb music too loud, but instead to an eye-bleedingly bright sun. No more Fresh. No more Ink. No more Mom. He was really alone now, even moreso than he ever thought he could be.

　

Error pulled his knees to his chest, burying his head into his knees with a sigh that turned into a sob before he was aware or could stop himself. How did this even happen? Fresh was on the way to improving themselves and he stopped them, quite literally, dead in their tracks. All because he couldn't be patient or hold his temper or be a good brother and acknowledge change or...

　

Geno wouldn't have done that. Geno supported Fresh in every way he could. _"You're just different, and there's nothing wrong with that."_ That was what he had told Fresh. Those words had helped Fresh more than anything Error could have attempted. That night, on their graduation, the memory of those words was what made Fresh finally snap into place. For the first time in their life, they were truly hurt. Had felt true, real emotions. After that, they would have been on the road to recovery.

　

And then Error murdered them.

　

He really fucked up. This wasn't correlation, this was causation. No, not even _that._ He had murdered Fresh. It wasn't an accident, wasn't even 'hitting them too hard'. He had attacked Fresh and seen the life drain from their face. This was _fratricide._ No way around that.

　

Error let out a shaky sigh as his tears slowed to a stop. He shifted, trying to find the most comfortable position he could get, trying his best to go to sleep. He remembered something his mom had often said to him, about how things would always look better in the morning.

　

But she was wrong. Things wouldn't look better ever again.


	3. Vaccinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals always had an oppressive atmosphere.
> 
> \--  
> Trypophobia/body horror warning for first half!!!

_Hospitals always had an oppressive atmosphere, even moreso in the dead of night. Not only that, but they were scary. Quiet, with little more than the ticks of a clock, the faint hum of fluorescent lights, and the clack-clack-clack of typing on a computer to make them not seem like graveyards._

_The door to the receptionist's area creaked open. The worker at the desk glanced up, noticing a skeleton child that couldn't have been too much older than eleven or twelve walk in. There was an odd sway to his gait, as if this was his first time walking in years. He was wearing the hospital's trademark paper-thin blue gown, but the most noticable thing had to be the copious amounts of blood covering his entire front. He looked like he had thrown up his insides, leaving a massive streak of now almost dried blood all over himself._

_He looked up at the receptionist, eyes drooping with that same tired, weak look all hospital patients tended to have. He plunked an empty styrofoam cup onto the desk, clearing his throat harshly. With a tiny, hoarse voice, (barely more than a whisper,) he began to speak._

_"Can I..." His voice was thick with what was probably blood. He cleared his throat once more. "Where can I go to fill this...?" He stared up at the receptionist, awaiting an answer. The worker paused, before regaining their composure._

_"There's a water fountain that way." They pointed down the hall. "I can fill it if you want." The child shook his head, mumbling a thanks before stumbling and swaying towards the water fountain._

_The pediatric floor of a hospital was one of the worst places in the world, Geno had decided. He had spent more time there than the average twelve year old, and he had grown to despise it. He had gotten used to the overpowering smell of antiseptic, and the awful, almost palpable terror of everyone who came to visit. Unfortunately, just because he'd gotten used to it didn't mean it was any less awful and uncomfortable._

_The water fountain itself looked surprisingly unused for a hospital. Since he was on the pediatric floor, the water fountain was just right for his height. There was a dingy mirror above it, allowing Geno a glimpse at his face. He looked like a wreck, or at least as much of a wreck as a twelve year old boy could look._

_He stared into the mirror, seeing a gross, tired, sick, and self-loathing child staring back at him. He placed the cup he had been holding carefully onto the edge of the water fountain, or the 'drinky drink thingy' as Fresh tended to call it. He carefully undid the bandages over the side of his face and removed the white glitches he had used to cover up what the bandages couldn't. He didn't want the others, Error especially, to see his condition and freak out. More than they were anyway, what with the numerous doctor visits and tests ran that gave no answer other than 'we don't know'._

_He couldn't help but cringe at the sight of his own face. The entire left half of it was caked in blood and absolutely covered in holes and craters. The edges of the craters had some gross, crusty, yellow substance along then. There wasn't any part of the left side of his face that **wasn't** smeared with blood or whatever other ungodly fluids came out of his head. It ached, but more than anything else it **itched.** It itched so bad, but Geno held himself back. If he scratched it, his skull would split wide open and he'd bleed and bleed and bleed..._

_Geno started to tear up, but noticed that more holes had started to form at the edges of his eye where those tears would come out. He absentmindedly rubbed at the side of his face that could only be described as the inside of a hornet's nest, but instantly regretted it when he ended up scratching and opening up his face again. His stomach twisted at the feeling, and he ended up throwing up into the water fountain._

_It was mostly blood._

_Geno groaned in pain, rubbing his face again but hopefully not doing any more damage. He turned on the water fountain, letting the blood he had thrown up go down the drain. He watched it go until it was nothing more than a large red streak on the metal. He looked at the hand he had been rubbing his face with. It was smeared in blood. He let out a sigh, grabbing the cup and doing what he had came to the water fountain to do._

_He filled the cup with water, a bit disappointed he couldn't get ice cubes or anything fancy like that but it would do. He glanced up at his reflection. His reflection said nothing, just stared back at him with a messed up face and tired eyes. He took the now full cup of water out from under the tap, setting it back down so he could lean down and splash some of the water on his face. He looked at his reflection again, some odd part of him hoping the water had cured him somehow. Nope. He wasn't that lucky._

_He reapplied his bandage a little messily, then used what little magic he could muster to conjure up those white glitches to hide the rest of his disgusting ant's mound of a face. He went back to his room, careful not to drop the overflowing cup of water. It was late, and he needed to go to sleep (or at least try to.)_

_Geno knew his mom and siblings (or maybe just his mom and Fresh; he remembered Error talking about going to a sleepover at Ink's the afternoon before) would drop by tomorrow to visit, because they always did. Same time, too. Always after school, maybe later if something came up. But they always came, or at least Mom did. Great Nox above, it killed him to see Mom like that._

_The Fontaine triplets' mother, known generally by her friends and really by everyone as CQ, was as positive as someone with kids like hers could be. Didn't let anything get her down, not at all. The best mom her kids could've asked for. She was a very understanding lady that never got angry and always seemed to have this silly smile on her face._

_Except when she was visiting Geno._

_When she was visiting her oldest son in the hospital, CQ was an entirely different person. Her smile seemed nervous and on most occassions forced, and no matter how convincing that motherly look was the sad and scared look in her eye showed her true feelings. She was terrified. The sad look on her face she would have when looking at Geno broke his heart, it really did. She'd tell Geno he was going to be okay, but both him and her knew deep down that that was just a hopeful feeling._

_Hospitals always had an oppressive atmosphere._

　

\---

　

For a second, Error was surprised when he woke up.

　

The kind of surprise that jolts you awake when sleeping at a hotel or at a friend's house. The sinking feeling that you've been taken away, but then you remember you were supposed to be here. The remembering part wasn't exactly reassuring for Error, but at least he hadn't woken up in a basement or government facility or anything like that.

　

Or worse, a police station.

　

He shuddered at the thought, sitting up. It was afternoon now, eye-burningly bright sun high in the sky. The sky itself was cloudless and a beautiful baby blue. It was a goregous day, Error had to admit. If only he could enjoy it properly.

　

He rummaged through his pockets, hoping to find a dollar or anything else of use. A crumpled old five dollar bill and his phone. He wasn't sure what he expected, a surivival kit and a book on how to handle murdering someone? Of course not.

　

Error held his phone in his hands, turning it over and over as if studying it before its purchase. Should he call someone? Text someone? He felt missing, disconnected. Not because he hadn't texted Ink a good morning, mind you, but because he knew very well that he couldn't really do anything but disappear.

　

There were no heartfelt goodbyes, no regrets over the last time he saw someone, not even 'I'm sorry but I can't come back' texts. Of course not. Because this was the real world.

　

He cautiously turned on his phone as if this was the last time he'd ever use it, greeted by the time which was apparently 3:34 PM and a number of frantic texts from CQ, Ink, and a number he could only assume was Ink's mother. They were all along the lines of 'what happened', 'come home', 'please come home', 'something's happened', and 'please tell me you're okay'.

　

And one text from Ink he had apparently forgotten to open that read 'ERROR HAVE U BEEN TO THE PASTRY SHOP BY MY OLD SCHOOL THEYV GOT THE BITCHINEST BAGELS IV EVER TASTED IN MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!'. Error couldn't help but crack a smile at that despite his situation. He continued scolling through his phone, the little cheeriness he had gotton from Ink's day old text now completely gone.

　

Error already knew he wasn't going to reply, but he felt a homesick ache settle in his stomach. He had really taken these things for granted, but then again he didn't know if there would ever be a time where he wouldn't wake up every morning to CQ sat at the table rummaging through notes for the storyboard to some comic or Fresh huddled too close to the TV watching cartoons that certainly weren't aimed towards adults.

　

He didn't know he would ever lose those things, but life had a way of being like that. First he lost Geno, then things kinda fell apart from there.

　

Whatever. Error shoved his phone into his pocket, stretching. To quote Fresh at one of the _worst possible times_ to quote Fresh, he couldn't keep moping around like this. He had to do something. He exited the alleyway, looking around. He knew he was going to keep moving, but he hadn't really eaten since breakfast yesterday. He was going to have a pizza the night before, but clearly _that_ didn't turn out as planned.

　

The door to the coffee shop swung open a bit roughly, bell at the top of the doorframe loudly jangling. The dorky looking teenage skeleton (a little younger than Fresh, possibly) managing the counter didn't seem to notice, deep in coversation with another skeleton that looked almost as worn out and done with everybody's shit as Error did. They didn't even appear to be talking about an order, just standing there chatting it up.

　

"Hey, some people would like to order." SciFell coffee shop AU can wait, dammit, this is an entirely different fic. The barista jolted in surprise, adjusting his red lensed glasses and clearing his throat. His customer rattled off his order again before leaving to go take a seat. Error had the odd feeling he interrupted something important.

　

"Uh, s-sorry 'bout that, sir..." The barista turned to Error with a nervous look on his face and a smile Error could tell was forced. "So... what can I do for you?" He adjusted his glasses again, looking a little intimidated by Error. Error didn't blame him, he'd be scared too.

　

"Uhm..." Error looked over the menu, just now realizing he didn't know what to get. What was under _five dollars?!_ What could he even get? He stared, seemingly lost in thought as the barista had begun to impatiently drum his fingers. Error eventually settled on the only answer he could think of. "J-just coffee." It's a coffee shop, dipshit. "Uh, black. ...Please, might I add."

　

The barista cracked a smile. "Sure. I'll go and get your mug." With a swoosh of his apron, he turned and vanished into the back room. He probably didn't need to go back there for a cup of coffee, but there was probably higher priority orders to be made back there.

　

Error slumped into a nearby chair, glancing around the almost empty shop. There was the tired looking skeleton the barista had been ogling over, a teenage couple, and an elderly woman sat by herself, but not really anybody else. It was a Saturday afternoon, so there should've been more than four customers. Or maybe this was just a very unpopular coffee shop. Whichever.

　

By the time Error glanced up, the barista had returned with his mug. That was fast. Error was about to pull the dollar out of his pocket when the barista, 'Sci' apparently by his nametag, held up a hand. "Don't worry about it. I saw you sleeping out there yesterday."

　

Error scoffed, rolling his eyes with hands about halfway through his pockets. "I believe I can pay for a cup of coffee."

　

"Ahahaha, _no you can't."_ Sci's previously nervous smile turned into a sarcastic one, handing Error his mug. Error had a feeling that Sci only knew what he was doing about 25% of the time. It was like if Fresh ever got a job, except without the weird kidcore 90's schtick. "What on earth happened to you anyway? I mean, I can assume you haven't lived on the streets before."

　

"Don't you have a job to be doing?" Error faked a sip from his coffee, gesturing to the total of now three other patrons. The elderly woman had left. Sci, who Error wasn't sure if he was either looking to get fired or was just naturally this chatty and annoying, seemed to disagree, propping his elbows onto Error's table. "I always love a good mystery."

　

Error let out a sigh. A chatty barista had to be a homeless criminal's worst nightmare.


End file.
